German-Norwegian-Danish outfit Heilung’s transcendental live performances have been praised left and right since their first gig in 2017. At their Dublin show in 3Arena yesterday evening, it was easy to see why: with incredible levels of stage production, uncompromising theatrics and their otherworldly, shamanic soundscapes, the concert was a relentless spectacle.

Not only their biggest headline performance in the Irish capital to this date (their previous show dates back to 2023 in the National Stadium), the 3Arena gig also seemed to be their last, after the group announced an upcoming break from music following this tour. If the feeling of rarity added an undeniable emotional weight to the evening, Heilung did not need any help to line the air with a profound sense of mysticism.

By the time the main act took onto the stage, temporarily transformed into a sort of wild, Scandinavian forest, the crowd had been appropriately dazed by opener Eivør and her borderline religious performance, oscillating between ethereal dreamscapes and powerfully executed, electrifying numbers.

“Religious” is indeed an adjective that stayed on the mind all throughout the evening, but especially as ‘Opening Ceremony’ – a play more than an actual song — began, musicians and dancers slowly entering the stage, draped in intricate costumes and faces hidden behind animal skull masks. As singer Kai Uwe Faust, dressed as a sort of fantastical priest for the occasion, ignited a branch of sage, cleansing the room of its demons, the atmosphere took a surreal turn which was only held up by ‘In Maidjan’ – a 12-minutes-long opus of deep growls, bone-shaking percussions, chilling shouts and rumbling chants. From then on, the tone was certainly set: Heilung are an act incomparable to anything you’ve seen before.

Although the group is officially composed of three musicians – namely Faust, Maria Franz and Christopher Juul, the 3Arena stage was filled by over fifteen performers, alternating between instruments and roles as if accomplishing a ritual. With heavy, tribal drums lining the back of the stage, the weight of the sound was as all-incompassing as its accompanying visuals.

Track after track, Heilung’s performance was an absolute feast for the senses – nostrils filled with the smell of burnt sage, perfectly measured lightwork and larger-than-life stage decor adding to the magical feeling of it all – and, of course, a sonic identity that was as spellbinding as it gets.

There was something organic, almost physical about their melodies. With each pulse of heavy drums, the heart flickered in unison, while Faust and Juul’s baritone voice and throat singing, on tunes like ‘Galgaldr’ and ‘Elddansurin’, insinuated themselves beneath the skin like an unshakable-shiver. In contrast, Franz’s high-pitched, but no less powerful, incantations resonated relentlessly through the bones, giving ‘Anoana’ or ‘Nikkal’ an impossibly ominous feel.

As any good theatrical show would, the group never stopped to address the audience, instead so engrossed in their respective roles you would almost forget where you were and what, exactly, you were watching. The closest thing Faust offered to a crowd interaction was a long, bone-chilling howl that resonated through the room and was promptly repeated by the entirety of the audience – before jumping into the divinely electrifying ‘Asja’, of course accompanied by a plethora of dancers, all dressed as viking warriors of sorts.

Tunes like these felt primal in every possible way – because they were impossibly rousing, with their breathtaking power and bizarre sense of naturalism — but also, simply, because they were so incredibly cool, performers entirely engrossed, measured and in control.

After an hour and a half of theatrics, the set finally exploded in the frenzied closing track ‘Harmer Hippyer’, and the performance finally appeared to let loose, over fifteen dancers and musicians now dancing and jumping around the stage as if in a fantastical trance. For a while, it felt like you were right there with them, a sense of uncontrollable euphoria insinuating itself in your stomach. Long after the group and their followers had offered their goodbye to 3Arena, it did not feel like you had left a concert – instead like something deep within you had been dug out and nurtured. In German, “heilung” translates to “healing.” With your ears still ringing and your heart still pounding in your chest, the name appeared to be infinitely fitting.